


The Lone Witness

by Mei_Miio



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-22 09:52:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16595603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mei_Miio/pseuds/Mei_Miio
Summary: Very short story of exactly 1000 words.  Has a point, which is unusual, but it's really very dumb.  More experimental than it is meaningful, and the constraint makes it annoying, but I guess you can only get an opinion on it by reading it.





	The Lone Witness

A wind blew through the trees. It was a wind that was warmer than each of its predecessors, just another harbinger of spring. The snow was melting, too. The white would very soon be replaced by green, would very soon be chased away in the form of rivulets of snowmelt, throwing themselves headfirst into the rivers and lakes, and being buried under the soil, or lifted up into the sky. The green… had begun to bud on the trees, and the sky was no longer gray, but blue. And yet, the one potential witness to this beautiful transition that was occurring was unable to see it for what it was.

Colors had lost their meaning to him, long ago. The bleached white of the snow may as well have been the same as the fresh green of the grass, and it was not as if he cared about the departure of the cold days.

Yes, this special time meant little more than nothing to him. Cold days, short days, warm days, long days, what was the difference? What did it matter, anyway? Lives still began and ended, and people moved on – or didn’t. Most important of all, he would still have nothing to do. The lone witness had no purpose, no daily routine, and not even the vestiges of responsibility. Those things had long since been forgotten, and so… he had just been there. He had not ceased to exist, nor to think, but he had ceased to care very much at all.

And then, among this time of transition, came a day where the boredom came, stronger than ever before. When he looked at his surroundings, they were still colorless and bland – he was not concerned with witnessing anything, he was concerned with finding some purpose. Nothing… to… do…

‘Nothing to do,’ was the thought that burdened him. ‘What am I to do?’

The river roared proudly, the birds sang in harmony, the wind whistled softly, but the lone witness did not hear. He sat, silently, and dejectedly.

The fresh smell of spring permeated the air, a squirrel scampered up a tree, and a bird poked at the space in front of the lone witness, but he did not notice. He sat, unmoving, and uncaring.

And even when the witness noticed something, he never realized what he was looking at. When the witness stood up, he closed his eyes, and when he reopened them he found himself near the river.

He saw it roar, with the strength to erase his existence. That – was what he saw. He saw it flow endlessly, with the capacity to carry him away. The birds and the bees, and the plants and the trees – he heard them call out. He heard them jeer. He heard a cacophony of disdain for his life, crying out above the roar of the river. The witness shrunk to the ground, and covered his ears.

“Stop this,” he said feebly, “I cannot take it.”

There may have been no one to hear him, but there was still a reply.

“And yet – you are still here.”

A feminine voice, emanating from somewhere – the very ground, perhaps. The lone witness was greeted by the companion, but the lone witness did not rise from the ground. He merely replied, “I am nothing.”

“And yet you are here!” the voice of the companion increased in volume, but the lone witness could still hear the cacophony.

“I have no purpose!”

“If you remain here, then you must!”

“I must cease to be here, then!” And the lone witness rose.

“You must continue.” When the words of the companion reached the lone witness, he felt a wet sensation. A rolling, falling, spashing sound rang out from the river. The lone witness opened his eyes, and for a moment he saw raindrops splashing against a calm surface, reflecting the solemn moonlight. But in the next, he saw brightly glowing evil faces, leering at him from the cascading river before disappearing, and blinding him by reflecting the sun.

“There is nothing to fear.”

The lone witness felt a comforting hand on his shoulder, and he almost saw the smiling face behind him. But though there was nothing to fear, the witness feared, and so he shouted.

“You shall not grasp me!”

And he ran, far away from the companion. But he slipped upon a slick muddy surface, and slid into a ditch. The witness panicked, feeling himself sinking into some dark hellhole, but then he realized he still felt a hand on his shoulder. He felt another feeling, elsewhere, spreading throughout his body. What was this? Could it be… pain?

“I am still here, and so are you. The difference is that I am here for you, and you are here for no one. Come to me, and open your eyes and your ears again.”

And, with reluctance and curiosity, the witness shook his head to free his mind, and opened his eyes and ears.

And there was nothing to fear. There was the peaceful sound of bugs and animals, but they were rejoicing in the first night of spring, and they meant him no harm. There was the muddy depression that he had fallen into, but it was just a consequence of the snowmelt, and it meant him no harm. And the trees, and the grass – it was night, but they still glowed with green.

“What is this?” the witness asked his companion.

“This is the world, you know. It is the world that you see when you remember me. I have been here all along, and yet you only recall my face at this moment?”

The witness saw tears on his companion’s face, and then he felt tears on his own. They cried, and then the witness said, “You let me remain?”

“Of course. I was here for you, but you must be here for me. That is your purpose.”

And so, the pair did not cease to be. The pair continued, and they saw.


End file.
